Permanent
by Healing Spirit
Summary: She fingered the Cloudy Wolf ring she never took off, even when it's golden companion was discarded and replaced. "I made a vow I had intended to keep. No giving up." She would fight through hell for him.
1. Prologue: Letters

**After reading The Letter by TrishLove (check it out, it's beautiful!), I wanted to do a sort of continuation, but not the kind that many of you are thinking of, probably! :-D This fic was greatly inspired by that fanfic and Dante's Inferno. Enjoy and remember to give me feedback and/or constructive criticism!**

**Chapter 1: Letters**

_Dear Cloud_,

How are you? It's been quite a while, huh? Barret convinced me to write you because he does care, Cloud. And he says he's sorry for all those things he said. And to be honest, I'm sorry too. Write me back, ok? The kids miss you a lot.

Sincerely, Tifa

_Dear Cloud_,

You still haven't answered my letter. Look, for the sake of the kids, can you please cooperate with me? I'm trying here. Don't be a pain in the ass.

Yours truly, Tifa

_Dear Cloud_,

Respond or I will knock you out with a fierce combination of limit breaks.

Fondly, Tifa

_**You are cordially invited to celebrate the union of**_

_**Tifa and John**_

_**In the setting of the Midgar Church**_

_**2pm**_

_**Sunday on the 31**__**st**__** of August**_

_**Please RSVP**_

_Dear Cloud_,

I hope this is still your address. 3 years ago, I finally mustered up the courage to write you, and I'm afraid it didn't come out right. I was still hurt and didn't know how to communicate my concern. So let me try again--How are you? It's been a while (a long while, now). Barret asked about you the other day and I didn't know how to respond. I really hope you are well. I hope you are also happy.

Marlene got her first boyfriend. Don't be scared, all they do is hold hands and every day he brings her a flower from his backyard. And you know Barret would Big Shot anyone who came near Marlene with pursed lips. If you ask me, cute puppy-love is, I'd say, pretty harmless!

Marlene really misses you, you know? And Denzel too, though he's in those teenage years and hates showing it, or any emotion, for that matter. He wants pay for helping out at the bar, now. Keeps ranting to me about how a man's not a man without his own money. So I humor him by paying him 300 gil an hour.

Note that my address is different now. No, I didn't give up 7th Heaven, of course! I bought an apartment across the street because the bar got so popular that I had to convert it into two floors.

I'm married now. I sent you an invitation to the wedding, but you never responded. You remember Johnny? I've told him all about our adventures and mishaps—he really admires you, Cloud. He treats me very well. We're trying for a second child; hopefully a girl. My little boy is 2 now and really wants to meet "Uncle Cloud".

I… really miss you, Cloud. Old habits die hard, I guess. Though our relationship wasn't perfect, it had its good points, and I'll always treasure those memories. I hope you found what you were searching for. I pray that you are as happy as I am.

Love always, Tifa

_Dear Tifa_,

I am writing from Cloud's apartment. I hope you don't mind, but I got your new home address from looking through your letters. I'm coming to see you. Some news has to be relayed in person.

Vincent Valentine

_Dear Baby Girl_,

I'm sorry that Daddy isn't there right now. Tifa told me the news. I just want you to understand that nothing was your fault, all right? I know you blamed yourself when he left 4 years ago, but he loved you. Denzel, too. And Daddy loves you, very much. Though you are almost 13 now, you will always my little girl. Please tell Tifa that I will be there in time for the funeral. Give her a hug for me.

See you soon, DADDY

_Dear Tifa_,

I will be there for the funeral. I'm so sorry, Teef.

Yuffie

_Dear Tifa_,

We will be there for the funeral. Shera won't stop crying, but I'm holding out. See you soon.

With love, Cid and Shera

_Dear Tifa_,

I will be there for the funeral. Please give my condolences to the children. I'm sorry.

Fondly, Nanaki

_Dear Tifa_,

I will be there for the funeral. Please accept my condolences. I'm sorry.

Fondly, Reeve

_Dear Tifa_,

I will be there for the funeral. I'm so sorry, dear. Aerith would have felt the same.

Love, Elymra

_Dear Mrs. Lockhart_,

We heard the news. If it's all right, we would like to attend the funeral. He will be remembered.

Turks

_Dear Tifa_,

We will attend the funeral. Our condolences to the family.

_Dear Tifa_,

We will attend the funeral. Please, if there's anything we can do.

_Dear Tifa_,

We will attend the funeral.

_Dear Tifa_,

We will attend the funeral.

_Dear Tifa_,

_Dear Tifa,_

_Dear Tifa_…

_Teef_,

I'm sorry.

Cloud


	2. The First Circle

**A million thanks to gingerbreadbear and Tani2!! You guys are so sweet and encouraging! This chapter took a long long long time, mainly because I wasn't sure how I wanted to go about it, but I think it turned out all right! Please read and review! Thanks guys!**

**Chapter 2: The First Circle**

Tifa was having a nightmare.

It seemed like a funeral. That was nothing new. When her mother died, Tifa dreamt of many funerals for her. When her father died, Tifa dreamt of many more for him. When… _they_ died… she relived their funeral every night. Her only thought was who was this one for?

All her friends were in it. Even past enemies. She couldn't remember the last time she had even contacted everyone like this. Heck, she hadn't even contacted Barret for two whole years, not even to inform him about…

Everyone was donned in black—and she felt oddly stifled by it. All that black. The "I'm sorry"s. The look everyone gave her as they came up to her, one by one, presenting their offerings of condolences. But in past dreams, everyone left her alone, knowing she liked her privacy.

The black dress she wore was too tight. Her black shoes were too small. She felt oddly self-conscious about her tear-drop earrings. They seemed inappropriate for the occasion.

But this was a dream-funeral, so why would anyone care about what earrings she wore?

Some wet heaviness took nest in her heart, and no matter how hard she tried to squeeze it out through her eyes, it only pressed harder. That's odd. When she touched her face, the tears felt real. Tifa has only cried 3 times in her life; once when her mother died, once when her father died and once during the happiest day of her life. It was another warning that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

Then something stung her nose like a siren that cut through the silence. An awful smell.

Someone said, "Tifa?" And she realized what the terrible smell was. Elymra was standing in front of her, holding a batch of gold-streaked flowers. As far as Tifa can remember, from the countless funerals she attended, she could never smell the flowers. People don't smell in their dreams.

"I brought you some flowers from Aerith's church. They've always comforted me."

"Honey, there are more people coming in."

"Oh dear, Jake's making a fuss again."

"How could this happen?"

"He seemed near immortal."

"I can't believe that ol' ****-for-brains is actually gone."

The wide, black-carpeted aisle down the middle of the room. The flowers circling the gravely dark coffin. The priest walking to the front, his black robes dragging behind him. Heads were hung; bodies crouched over with effort, swallowed up by all that darkness. Everything felt so heavy and slow. And yet, she just felt impatient with her tears, with the entire event.

A heavy hand rested on her shoulder. She could barely recognize the voice that was her husband's—the smell was making her nauseated. "I'm sorry I never got to reconcile with him, Teef. Everyone left from our village came to pay their respects. Cloud was a good man."

Her heart caught in her throat. "Cloud…?"

And Tifa sank into the blessed black.

_She was flying on wings of silk. _

_She was never one to dress up, but for him, on this day, she wanted to be as beautiful as possible. Murmurs buzzed among the guests. "Oh, like an angel!" (The sniffing Elymra, comforted by Reeve.) "He better treat her right, or I'll whoop his sorry ass!" (Shera slapped the cussing offender in the back of the head. Yuffie laughed.) "A lovely vision in white!" (Commented Nanaki.) "That's our mom!" (The adorable Marlene and Denzel.)_

_The light from the stained glass windows of the church flowed through the aisle and glanced off the rose petals sprinkled before her. The heady perfume of the flowers blooming in the church was laden in the air. She felt slightly unsteady on her heels (thank goodness Barret was so sturdy), but all those hours practicing after closing time in the bar paid off—and she had the blisters to show for it. _

_The wide, white-carpeted aisle down the middle of the church. Lush flowers circling the bright room. The priest positioned in the front, smiling encouragingly at her. And beside him, stood a handsome specimen looking a bit shy yet glowing with joy. _

_The man of her dreams. She had never seen him smile like that. And oh, what a beautiful, boyish smile that was. _

_The spell was broken sharply when half-way down the aisle, Barret unceremoniously pulled her in for a bear-hug. "No man deserves you," he grumbled but she could tell he was bordering tears. She remembered his joy when she asked if he could act as her father during her wedding. She squeezed the gun-man closer when he whispered something else in her ear. "Are you sure this is what you want?" _

_She almost laughed out loud. "Yes, Barret. This is what I want." At that, he slowly released her and cleared his throat. Amid the amused chuckles echoing around them, they continued their measured steps, though Barret was developing a tinge of red on his cheeks._

_When he finally received her hand (after Barret pulled that little stunt), he immediately felt his lifelong cowardice invade. When was the last time he had any little ounce of happiness that wasn't stripped away from him? His parents were gone, his hometown, his friends, even his sanity had once fled him. He was nothing but pieces that didn't fit, yet jammed together all the same. He had nothing to offer anyone, let alone a wife. Heck, he barely knew how to take care of himself, let alone raise a family._

_He had often wondered, why was he given life when so often, many others perished around him? Why wasn't he killed along with the rest of his village? Why wasn't he killed when all that mako was pumped into him? Why wasn't he killed along with Zack? And why had he been able to defeat Sephiroth? Twice? _

_And when the time came to recite their vows, he knew. Now he knew why he had been allowed to live all those times. It was all for this angel with glistening raven hair and warm brown eyes. What had he done to deserve her? How many times has he dreamed of this moment as a child, watching her through her window? As a scrawny teenager wanting so badly to impress her? As a messed-up adult that forgot all about his entire existence, and yet still remembered her? A completion of his very soul. It was her. Tifa._

"… _I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride." He didn't need an incentive. With one smooth motion-- the only indication that this was a highly skilled swords-master— he wrapped her in his arms and claimed her lips. He poured his heart to her, with the contradiction of his timid kiss and crushing embrace. But then he tasted her salty tears and immediately grew afraid. Was he doing this wrong (there weren't many opportunities for him to attend weddings for all his 20-something years)? Sensing his hesitance, Tifa giggled, speaking silent words against his lips. I love you. _

_In all his life, Cloud Strife has never cried. Even as a baby, his mother had found it rather odd (peaceful, but odd). All he had ever felt was rage and hatred, and that didn't allow for tears. He never allowed his mother to give him much affection, and experiments were not even treated as humans. But on that altar, with Tifa crying into his kiss, he couldn't help the bursting of joy inside the fragile heart he never knew he had, and allowed his tears to rain down like an absolution. _

_A sweet, perfumed wind swept through the church, stirring up a waltz of white petals; perhaps a present from a dear friend. _

_From this day forth, I, Cloud Strife, will live only for you, Teef._

_Hmmm… is that a promise?_

She kept flexing her arms as she ran, feeling a bit silly but suspecting that it was the only warm up she'll get. The moon was cradled in a bed of ebony clouds, and it kept winking at her through the trees. Already, her legs were starting to burn from the effort of running, or was it the anticipation of the fight?

Under the folds of her apron, the Elixir bottles and bags of Ether were jumbling about like a foreboding omen. It was the only other sound besides the crunch of leaves beneath her feet and it kept her sane. In the dark, the shadows tend to chase reason away.

She was starting to have second thoughts. How did she know that Vincent hadn't completely gone off his rocker (he sure seemed crazy when he came to visit her in the dead of the night and claim that Cloud still _existed_)? But if what he said was true, then the person that was hurting the most was Cloud. Enough to take his own life. What a tragic way for a twice-hero to die.

But what if there really was a way to save him? From whatever the enemy is? If there was an inkling of hope, Tifa wanted to believe it. The woods fell away as she remembered the funeral. The whole thing was a lengthy daze as the world shifted away and left her feeling naked and vulnerable in her disbelief. After realizing the truth of his betrayal, the swords-master had twisted the dagger and she had let out a cry as her heart ruptured, spilling regret. How long had he suffered? How long had she been unaware of his inner torture?

She tried to remember the last time she saw him. She had not spoken a word to him after he proclaimed he was leaving. Yes, the memory was painful, but through her myriad of emotions at his finality, she had not noticed the look in his eyes. They were so hopeless and still, as if witnessing the slow death of a silkworm: horrifying yet beautiful in its subtlety. She had been too much of a coward to listen to what he was trying to say, and instead, allowed Barret to scream, rant and rave about what a bastard he was to leave her, Marlene and Denzel. But even as Barret roared "You don't deserve to even look at her" he still kept his gaze. She had left the room because she couldn't take the look in his eyes anymore. And then 4 years later, he kills himself.

She no longer recognized this part of the woods. It was deeper and somehow, even darker than the rest; she wondered if she had gone the right way. Then again, he hadn't really specified where to meet him (he was never one for long explanations). She skidded to a stop on her rubber soles, looking back and forth, trying to distinguish one strange tree from the other.

When she recognized her name on the wind, she saw the faint silhouette approach her. As he reached her and their eyes met, a moment of complete and utter understanding passed between them. From the day Vincent Valentine met Tifa Lockheart, he knew that she was every bit as broken and lost as he was. After all, he recognized a strange feature on her that he also possessed. Both had eyes too old for their bodies. Eyes that had seen so much pain.

He brought out a little sack and Tifa understood, patting both sides of her apron. "We're going to need them all," he said. For a moment, she seemed fearful. But he knew her resolve better than that. "Which ones should I take?" she asked.

"Whichever ones you feel most comfortable using." He knew she hated to kill. It was not in her nature.

They stood in silence as they respectively took little glowing balls out of his sack and dissolved them into their beings. Power from the Lifestream joining with their blood. Tifa pulled out several bottles and bags to hand to Vincent. He stuffed them into his pockets carefully.

They knew they were stalling but fear was starting to gnaw at their determination. It was an endeavor that was so far beyond comprehension, that it could only be achieved if they stormed in with virtually no reason whatsoever. But the choice was already made and the actors were already dressed. Yet, Tifa couldn't stop trembling. Vincent peered at her uneasily.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he muttered.

She was unsure. The day she married Johnny, she had locked away her fighting gloves.

She spent several marvelous years as a normal person, playing business owner, mother and wife all at the same time. She was thrown into the frenzy of everyday life, and the only enemies she attacked were the notorious dust bunnies under the couch, the only things she disfigured were chicken breasts or the occasional cheerio that just refused to travel into Jake's mouth. Her torn knuckles had healed, the agility in her legs dulled. But now and then, when she passed by that hidden drawer while on her way to Jack's room; she would pause. Once upon a time, she had been a killer.

She was frozen in her fear, but the echoes of promises made so… so long ago wouldn't fade. She fingered the Cloudy Wolf ring she never took off, even when its golden companion was discarded and replaced. She remembered a night that she kept reliving in her dreams: the strength of his arms around her and the tender way he rained his tears upon her face, her neck, her body.

"I made a vow I had intended to keep," the line of her lips was taut. "No giving up."

"That's what I needed to hear." He started deeper into the forest. Tifa lingered to take the Cloudy Wolf ring off and tuck it safely away in her pocket, and at the same time, pulled out her gloves. The leather felt foreign against her skin. It was cool and smooth, but no longer molded to her hands as they once did.

"_Mom?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_Why are you marrying Johnny?" _

"_Because I love him."_

"_But what about Cloud?"_

"…"

"_You loved him, didn't you? Isn't that why you married him? He loved you too. It's been a year now, can we at least write to him?"_

"_He won't read it."_

"_How do you know that?"_

"_Marlene… Things are different now. Johnny is very nice and he has already accepted you and Marlene as his own. Cloud and I are not getting back together. He doesn't love me anymore and I don't love him. I'm sorry, sweetheart."_

"… _Why did he have to leave?"_

"… _I don't know. He wasn't happy anymore, I guess. Hopefully, he found that happiness by now."_

ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.

Vincent was indifferent to the carving, but Tifa felt her stomach stir. With each step they took, the veil of darkness only grew thicker. Beneath her shoes, Tifa could no longer feel any more grass or vegetation, only a dry, empty earth. The silence was too loud; it made her wary. Her heart was pounding in her ear, but she forced her stance to be strong and her mind to be resilient.

Without warning, a pungent smell assaulted her nose and she nearly gagged: it smelled like molted blood and decaying human flesh. A bloodcurdling scream cut through the thick air. Another followed and then another, mingled with the buzzing of millions of terrors. Shapeless forms were breaking off from the shadows.

"These are the souls of those who did not commit to either good or evil but whom lived their lives without making conscious moral choices," Vincent spoke calmly, reaching inside his cape. "Therefore, both Heaven and Hell have denied them entry. These souls now reside in the Ante-Inferno, within Hell yet not truly part of it." Tifa couldn't take it. The shrieks were shredding her heart. She tried to cover her ears, but they pierced through, raking her tender core.

"Be wary, they will strike!"

And a terrible face sprang up in front of her, mouth gaping and bleeding from its eyes. Though Tifa's face drained of color, her fist came up instinctively.

With the connection of fist upon enemy, she felt the adrenaline surge through her veins like wildfire. And suddenly, she could sense the slight stirring of air when someone was attacking her from behind or the slight lean of a body before they strike with the opposite hand. Her body became as light as air, the muscles rolling under skin, their strength intoxicating. It sent her into a blinding fury, relishing the sweet taste of satisfaction when the enemy recoils from the pain or the gratifying _crack_ of a broken skull.

But then she stopped. What was she doing?

She remembered seeing so much blood. A heartless smirk that twisted her insides.

"Tifa!" Several silver bullets defaced a being from behind her. Vincent pushed her out of the way as he impaled another with the gleaming surface of his gun. "Run to the river bank!" he shouted above the ear-splitting shrieks, pointing towards a distant destination.

And she did. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, her lungs screaming from the exertion. Behind her, the gunshots were coming closer and she knew that Vincent had started to follow her. But just as she was starting to see the bank appear, the shadows came alive in front of them. Tifa dug her heels into the ground. There must have been hundreds. No. _Thousands_.

"Tifa! Use the materia!" Vincent cried. She shut her eyes. She couldn't bear to stain her hands with more blood.

"Tifa! Use it!" Vincent was closing in and so were the thousands of faceless souls of people that had wanted nothing more than to live a normal life. Like her, in life, they didn't want to stand for something just or for something evil. Because either way, they would have had to hurt others, and in the process, harm those that they cared most about. Either way, they couldn't prevent death from encroaching upon their fragile joy.

They were close enough for her to see some of their faces. Wasps and flies bite them mercilessly, pelting them like hail. Worms crawled through the holes in their deformed bodies, consuming their blood and tears. To her surprise, some of them were wearing SOLDIER uniforms. One was approaching her faster than the others. Tifa recognized that vacant face in an instant.

It was her own.

All she could remember was raising her hands and feeling the energy ripping from every inch of her body. There was a long eternity of blinding light and a dull buzzing in her ears. When it finally ended, there was only blessed quiet and the smell of burning mixed with the after-scent of materia magic. But at what price? In the wake of her attack, so many bodies lay scorched on top of each other, or twisted in unnatural angles. Their faces were frozen in their shock, skin curling away from the white of their bones. And yet, she couldn't look away.

A male hand gripped her shoulder in an odd form of comfort. As soon as the warm of that human hand touched her, Tifa's eyes glazed over and she heaved up the contents of her stomach.

"Tifa." His voice grounded her, reminding her that she was still alive and the ones she had killed weren't. "You have to stay strong. Remember why we're here."

_During the day, it was easier to fight the shadows. But at night, they crept into the most vulnerable part of any person: the mind. On an icy winter night, Tifa and Cloud awoke to screaming. _

_On instinct, forgetting that the floor was biting cold, Tifa sprinted to Marlene's room barefooted, Cloud not far behind. But Marlene looked back at them from shivering on her bed, just as awake. That meant… "Denzel!" Tifa propelled herself out of the doorway, while Cloud went over to Marlene to reassure her it was all right. "I'm c-cold. W-why is Denzel screaming?" she whimpered into his embrace._

_Tifa crossed his dark room by memory, knowing where to jump over the toy soldiers and where to avoid various articles of clothing on the floor. Though 7__th__ Heaven was freezing because the heater was broken, beads of sweat laced his forehead. Her heart ached upon seeing his tears. "Denzel, it's ok, wake up."_

_He cried for his mother. "Shhh. It's all right." She reached down and gathered his sweating body into her arms, to her heart. "Mom's here. Mom's here."She held him tight against her, because he seemed so small when he was crying. By day, this boy was cool and collected, never showing any indication of what he was feeling: whether he was happy or ecstatic, whether he was sad or indifferent. But in the dead of the night, when there were no colors or lights to chase away the terrors, Denzel was just like any other frightened boy. _

_He started to quiet down, his sobs becoming calmer and the trembling slowed. Tifa sat there with him for a long time before he started awake. "Tifa… I…" he blushed deeply, already reverting back to his normal self. But she just smiled. "It's all right, Denzel." _

"_I… I, uh." He was fumbling with his words, so she waited patiently. "Tifa, I'm sorry for calling for my mom." He was embarrassed, she realized. "After all you and Cloud have done for me, I still…" _

"_Denzel," she placed a hand over his. "Listen to me. You are a part of this family just as much as any of us. We just want you to be happy. There's no need to feel embarrassed about missing your mom." She looked crestfallen._

"_Tifa. I __**am**__ happy here." He said honestly. She realized that when he spoke with emotion, his eyes seemed even more impossibly blue. "And, though I miss my parents sometimes, I know they are looking out for me. And…" he slipped his hand out from under hers. "I feel guilty sometimes, because I sometimes forget what my mom looked like. When I try to picture her and even dad, I see someone else."_

"_Someone else?" Tifa frowned. _

"… _Cloud," she smiled when he said that. "And… you, Tifa." Now she was surprised. It was no surprise that he saw Cloud as a father figure, he admired him so much. But herself? She was afraid that Denzel would never warm up to her. But now…_

"_I'm sorry, Tifa. I know I'm a lot of trouble."_

"_Denzel, you __**are**__ my son." He was taken aback by how much conviction was behind those words. "You and Marlene are our children, and nothing's going to change that. No matter how much you change as you grow, Cloud and I are always going to love you."_

"_But everyone I love eventually dies!" _

_Tifa didn't know what to say. How much pain did this innocent child have to see? With his parents and family gone, he had no one left. Until Cloud found him. The day he brought Denzel home was a blessing to their entire group. Tifa couldn't imagine her family without Marlene and Denzel. Finally, she settled with the truth: "Cloud and I are not going anywhere. No matter what happens, we will always come back to you and Marlene."_

_From their position in the doorway, Cloud and Marlene came up to join Tifa. "Tifa's right, Denzel," Cloud put a hand on his wife's shoulder, giving a firm nod. "We're never going to leave you." Marlene twisted out of Cloud's arms and climbed onto Denzel's bed, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "You're stuck with us, whether you like it or not! And don't worry, I call Tifa 'Mom' by accident sometimes too! But she IS my mom, so I guess it's ok. And she's your mom too, so you can call her that also. Oh, and Cloud IS your dad, so of course you can call him dad. But I'm going to have to pass on that, because my Daddy won't be happy about that and he'll probably kick Cloud's a—"_

"_All right, Marlene," Cloud scooped the little chatterbox back into his arms. "Let's go back to bed." _

_It was hard getting Marlene to fall back asleep in the cold, so they opted for a special arrangement that night. They all went back to Cloud and Tifa's bedroom, Marlene burrowing into the middle of the bed, dragging a more reluctant Denzel with her. Once the two were settled, Cloud and Tifa climbed in on either side. _

_As the children drifted off into sleep, Cloud and Tifa shared a secret smile. He reached for her hand across the bed. She met his halfway._

The river pulsed beneath the small and flimsy boat. Tifa couldn't bring herself to stand—was it just her imagination or were there faces beneath the surface? She glanced over to the old man ferrying them across—Charon, his name was?—and felt a cold finger trace her spine. When she and Vincent had approached him, asking for passage across, he had refused: "Those of the dead loathe those of the living. Be forewarned." And his refusal boded well: only damned souls crossed the river.

Tifa held herself. "You know Vincent, this wasn't what I expected."

"Hell is different for everyone. Everyone's personal hell is the reality of their minds."

Tifa kept her gaze focused on her knees, wrapping her arms tighter around her legs. "Vincent? How do you know so much about this place?" He seemed deep in thought, an arm resting on his knee, eyes shut in thought.

"I've travelled through here before."

"What?" she was incredulous. The watery cries of the tortured were dulled against the current.

"In that coffin, I had time to ponder my sins. I remembered the stories I had heard of Dante's journey into Hell and how each sin was given a different punishment, all befitting the nature of the sin committed. And only naturally, I wondered what punishments awaited me in--"

"Vincent." Tifa cut him off brusquely. "Don't say that. God didn't make humans so that they can make mistakes and not learn from them. Sins can be forgiven."

"I don't believe that." Tifa looked at him, a mixture of pity and annoyance swimming in her eyes. Vincent added, "And Cloud didn't believe it either."

His only response was the sound of the water lapping against the wood. He glanced at her desolate gaze at something unfathomable. Something she didn't want to accept; never did.

He remembered the tears at the wedding. The joy in his own heart as he watched his two friends join in marriage. The new couple had cried in each other's arms, oblivious to the deafening cheers around them. It wasn't just a wedding.

Barret had lost his wife and best friend, and was hated by his entire village. Nanaki had lost all his family and was once experimented on like a common animal. Reeve was trapped with the enemy, yet did everything he could to do what was right. Cloud and Tifa had lost their families, and their entire hometown. He himself had lost his life, his humanity. And a special friend had lost her life.

They cheered because through all that sadness (and there was just so much of it), there could be this happy moment where two people that had loved each other since they were children (though fate and timing couldn't have been crueler to them) are finally joining as husband and wife. What a precious and beautiful ending for such long and terrible decades of sorrow. Laughter had shaken the church when Cid shouted "FINALLY!" after they were married. No truer words were spoken.

But fate was not through with them. There were ghosts of the past that threatened the marriage. Who but himself knew better—that feeling of utter hopelessness and regret that nothing could be done to salvage what was once there. Or maybe it was never there. From what he heard, Barret had said many terrible things to Cloud the night he left. Vincent knew that Tifa probably didn't say anything. How could she? The man she loved with all her heart, body and soul claimed that it just wasn't enough for him.

And now, fate interferes again. When Tifa finally took the initiative after so many years, and tried to reconcile with Cloud to be friends, this happens. After Tifa fainted at the funeral, she had barely said a word to anyone, even her husband and baby boy. Oddly enough, Marlene and Denzel weren't present at the funeral when he arrived, but perhaps they were too stricken by the suddenness of his death and were escorted home early. Everyone was taking it hard, but no one was taking it harder than Tifa.

The chill in the air deepened and he felt her shiver. He sat as still as a statue, the grim lines of his mouth shifting as he spoke. "We are travelling to the First Circle, which contains the souls of those who led virtuous lives but either were born before the advent of Christianity (and thus could not properly honor God) or were never baptized. They wander around for all eternity, mourning their state and drowning in self-pity."

The plains ahead shook and the souls inhabiting them were thrust about like ragdolls. Their cries were so terrible. Tifa wondered (if she ever made it out here alive) if she would ever stop hearing them. Wind swept through the barren fields, mingling with the fire being gurgled up by the earth. But what bothered Tifa the most was the amount of children's voices she heard.

How long ago had a young disillusioned survivor of Nibelheim professed their torture in such a manner?

As they got off the boat and stepped through the plains, Tifa was losing it. There were so many laments of wars, songs of desperate hope (even in this place, there are these), and screams of the unfairness, of a savior that never came, of a heart that died too slowly, too painfully, that continued dying even after the body withered into nothing. The perpetually rumbling ground and large rocks from unfathomable origins flying about made it hard to walk. Vincent advised Tifa to stay low.

Here and there; there would be a face that she recognized. Every now and then, there would be a cry that she had once heard, whether in the streets, along their journey or in her nightmares.

"Sing to the LORD, for he is highly exalted. The horse and its rider he has hurled into the sea!"

"Suddenly… there was a tremendous flash of light that cut across the sky!"

"Mother… they have killed me! It hurts, Mother!"

"Father died a slow and painful death. We've waited so long and the savior never came."

"They said it was the war to end the feud! What end? All they have ended are so many lives!"

"I hate SOLDIER, I hate Shinra, _I hate them all_!"

_I hate them all_…

"Tifa!" Vincent's shout shook the haze. He quickened his pace. "We can't stay too long. One's sanity is their greatest prize."

_God, if you exist, please don't let Tifa die. _She froze, and twisted around.

_I'm sorry I never believed in you, but she won't open her eyes. She won't wake up. Please. make her wake up. _Where was that voice coming from? Another wave churned through the ground and she fell onto her knees.

_Tifa's father says I'm a bad boy and won't let me see her. It's my fault. It's all my fault. I should have been stronger. Stronger…_

_I hate you, God. You don't care! You didn't save dad, and you didn't save Tifa! I hate you!_

The boy couldn't have been more than 9 years old. He was sitting with his back to her, his head buried in his arms, but his mane of golden hair was unmistakable. Amid the utter chaos of one-legged children crawling about, mothers searching frantically for their daughters and others still, that ran and ran and ran from a threat that will forever only live on in their hells, Tifa couldn't take her eyes off that boy. His shoulders were shaking from his sobs and he wiped his tears on his dirty sleeves.

Tifa's sharp eyes caught the thick piece of rock hurtling towards him. "Time!" and she flew beyond her body, catching the rock with a swift upper cut, and turning around to make sure he was not hurt.

When he lifted his head she had no more doubts. Eyes of the brightest blue (even before the mako injections) bore deeply into her softer ones.

The back of her eyes burned. "Cloud…"

_He was never good with words. Once the festivities were over and their friends had forced them into the room, the lock clicking into place audibly, they stood next to each other as awkward strangers once more. In the long moments of silence that ensued, he started to panic. There was barely any furniture in the room, save for one very noticeably placed bed. He couldn't bring his eyes to meet hers, though he was sure she was staring at him expectantly. What if he was no good at it? What if she was dissatisfied with him? They had come this far (though it was like the blind leading the blind) but what was supposed to happen now? _

_A slight stir in the air between them told him she was turning away from him with a sigh. A rush of insecurity caused him to grab her arm. Her rosy cheeks were a telltale sign of her own nervousness. He was slightly perturbed. Sure, he was a messed-up adult with the mind of a teenager, hardly the ideal man for any average girl. But she was Tifa. She was the goddess of his world. Always smiling, always beautiful, his Tifa. She had everything to offer, yet she mirrored his anxiety, as if she was afraid she would disappoint him._

_And that knowledge alone was enough to build his resolve. The lust part was no problem—heck, he had longed for her (and only her) ever since he noticed the first awkward hairs preceding puberty. She could never disappoint him, not even in his dreams._

_Under her searching eyes, he smiled at her, having never felt so happy. But she couldn't return his smile. She was still unsure. He would show her that she no longer had to worry over him. She will always have him by her side. _

_Softly, tenderly, he lowered his head and enveloped her lips in his. It was only a brief kiss, but it served as a trigger. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and holding on tight. The entirety of his being warmed her to her core as he pressed his body hotly against hers. But soon, kissing and wandering hands were no longer enough. Suddenly his cotton suit and her wedding dress were cumbersome and annoying. _

_Somehow, they found the bed in the darkness. Neither knew how the heat had escalated so quickly, but the clothes were torn off their bodies and the only thing that existed were melding mouths, fumbling hands, and her shy giggles because he wouldn't stop commenting on her perfection (though she had always tried to hide the scar down her chest). And she would kiss the never-fully-healed wound on his chest, the scars all over his flawed body (remnants of a life of war), look him straight in the eye, and call him beautiful. Insisted that he was all she ever wanted. But he didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve her. The more he said it, the more he believed it._

_She seemed to sense his hesitation and pressed herself flush against him, tangling her fingers in his hair. But she loved him anyway. Loved him. Tifa loved him._

_Imagine her surprise when all of a sudden, he began to cry. The cool tears tickled her neck as he planted calm kisses along her collarbone. They wet her hands as he kissed each and every one of her fingers with deliberate gentleness. Buying her time to refuse. Who knew what his mako and Jenova cells could do to her? But she didn't. His happy tears slid down her face when he swiftly covered her lips with his, swallowing her scream as they found completion in each others' ecstasy. Their hands tightly intertwined, the weight of their rings sealing a promise._

_After so many years of pining over, lusting after, and loving every piece of her, this moment seemed so surreal that it scared him. He clung onto her like a lifeline as the world lay forgotten in the wake of heaven's embrace, even long after she drifted off to sleep. He couldn't sleep, only press his own tear-stained cheek to hers, praying, desperately pleading to God that the one thing he ever really wanted would never be taken away from him. _


	3. The Second Circle Part I

And here we are in the second circle! (Everybody throws rotten tomatoes at her.) I know, I know! I'm terrible for not updating for so long! But I promise, I'll update more often this summer, especially because the characters won't leave me alone and I can't type fast enough to tell their story!

By the way, Cloti is officially canon! WOOOT! And after stumbling upon that little piece of information, of course I have to continue this story as a tribute to my OTP (after all, we always knew it was canon).

**Dante's Heaven **

**By UnfalteringDream**

**Chapter 3: The Second Circle**

Her heart close to bursting, she reached for the young Cloud with a hesitant hand.

A force pushed her backward and the world slipped from under her feet. But the expected cut of jagged rocks never came. Instead, all sight, hearing and sensations fled from her like leaves in the wind. She tried moving her limbs but the air turned thick. Stark alarm coursed through her once she realized the thick air around her began to coagulate into warm liquid. It felt as if she was being lowered into a warm bottomless ocean but that made her panic greater because she couldn't kick her legs to swim. Her body felt like lead.

_Where…? _Something heavy and stifling was pressing on her chest. She wanted to sit up to open her lungs and breathe, but her body would not cooperate. The water began to creep up her sides and face—she was surely sinking.

In her mind, she garnered all the strength she had to will her limbs to move and once her entire body was submerged, her arms began to thrash wildly about.

"Hey! Tifa, what's wrong?" The voice was murky to her waterlogged ears.

Was she going insane? Vincent had warned her. How silly were they to think that they could fight through hell with a few materia, fists and a gun? Her thrashes turned more violent at this horrifying revelation.

"Tifa! Tifa, stop!" Suddenly her lungs opened as the water became solid and silky. It tangled in her arms and legs and her tears ushered out rapidly. The voice continued to shout when it became clear and close. Trembling, she stopped moving to breathe more easily as an intense light burned through her closed eyelids. Warm arms came to rest on her forearms and the voice (which she could now tell was male) spoke in a soothing tone. "Shh, it's ok. I'm here."

"What…" she choked out amid her gasps.

"Shh, it's ok Tifa. I'm not going anywhere," he began to rub her arms in an effort to comfort her. Why did he sound so familiar? Where was she? Rubbing the silky material in between her fingers, she guessed it was a sheet. Her body felt warm but still wet and sticky; was she coated in sweat? From the distinct sensation of the sheets on her skin, she discerned that she was naked. Dread settled in her stomach as she tried to determine who the male was. She tried opening her eyes but the light was too bright.

"Sorry I left you alone. I had to check up on Marlene and Denzel." She did a double take. Was it…?

"Heh, I leave you alone for two seconds and you have a nightmare," he said in a shy, yet teasing manner. She could almost see his small, embarrassed smile when he's about to attempt a joke, a dimple appearing beneath his left cheek as he scratches the back of his head. "You know, Teef—," no one calls her that but… "You're higher maintenance than Fenri—"

She launched himself into his arms. Though she couldn't see him, she knew it was him. It had to be him. Only he calls her 'Teef', only he would have the audacity to touch her so intimately, only he would make such unfunny yet adorable attempts at humor, only he would compare his beloved wife to his equally beloved motorcycle.

Her hands buried themselves in his hair, soft and feathery—the same familiar strands that she used to thread through her fingers every night. Almost on instinct, she pressed her body against the familiar hard planes of muscle and rested her face in his neck. Despite herself, the tears streamed out again, more ferociously than ever. Too overcome to even say his name, she just held on as tight as she could.

"Teef?" Though he sounded confused, his arms came around her firmly.

It was him. She didn't need her eyes to tell her what her mind, body and heart just _knew_. Blind, she leaned back and her hands moved across his face, searching for his lips. He kissed her because he always knew what she needed. And right now, she just needed him.

He laid her back on the silky sheets; all the while, they never broke the kiss. It was a soul-searing kiss that tasted salty from her tears and sweet from his midnight snake. Her heart was pounding with delirious joy as goose-bumps sprang up all over her body from the proverbial touch of his hands. How long has it been…?

_Wait_. Cutting through the haze of pleasure, her rational mind screamed. _This can't be him. He's dead. He killed himself. Suicide, Vincent had said. He even brought you the remaining pills to prove it. _

_Teef, _

_I'm sorry._

_Cloud_

She turned her face away from the imposter, feeling utter disgust at his hands resting on her bare hips. With all the strength she had left, she pushed his chest away from her. "No!"

The person seemed to anticipate her reaction and caught her hands, pinning them to her sides. _God…_ Her eyes prickled with tears. How could she be so stupid as to forget? How could she be so easily tricked? "What's wrong, Teef?" he asked with Cloud's voice. "Why are you resisting me?"

She tried to open her eyes to see him, but the light seemed to intensify. Her muscles cried as she fought against his strong grip. She had to get away. Whoever this was, it was not Cloud. Cloud was dead. "Get away from me!" she shrieked. He didn't respond with words. Rather, he insistently tried to capture her lips with his. Never had she felt so helpless.

"Come come, don't be shy," he said, his voice wavering from Cloud's baritone to a pitchy tenor. The smell of sweat, alcohol and putrid body odor filled her nostrils. Tifa felt a cold shiver run down her spine. It couldn't be… Memories of a pudgy, ghastly man with a tacky tuff of blond hair and meaty hands inundated her mind. Growing increasingly uncomfortable the longer he stared at her chest. How it took every fiber of her being not to recoil when he advanced towards her while she was attempting to get information out of him. The last time she's ever felt such revulsion to a man was to none other than… "Don Corneo, get away from me!" Tifa shouted as she swung an uppercut to his jaw.

Even blinded, her aim was true as the man released her with a yelp. The light faded and Tifa snapped her eyes open. Even as she was adjusting to the dimness, Don Corneo moved his thick body over hers. Fueled by anger and disgust at the lust shining in his beady eyes, Tifa kicked upward with her leg. When he fell off the bed with both hands in-between his legs, she took this chance to scramble off the bed, clutching the sheets to her body.

"How dare you," Don Corneo growled, and Tifa caught a glimpse of his yellowing teeth. "How dare you refuse me?"

Tifa didn't answer, only calmly wrapped the sheets around herself and tied it into place; she was so angry she could barely see straight. How could she have been so stupid? To have believed Don Corneo's rendition of Cloud? As he approached her, she drew up her fists in front of her. His answering smirk was cold.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said. For a moment, Tifa hesitated. "If you ever want to see Cloud again—" her fists tightened. "—I would suggest you not fight me. I am the only one who can let you through."

"You're lying," the words left her tongue but her mind was already reeling from the mention of passage to Cloud. "How would you know where he is?" she asked. He answered with a chuckle as he stepped closer. Unconsciously, Tifa stepped back, fists raised higher. It was only then that she realized that she was stripped of not only her clothes but also her leather gloves. That meant her materia and healing potions were gone too. She was utterly defenseless except for her bare hands and feet.

Sensing her dismay, Don Corneo knew she had finally come to terms with her predicament. He reveled at the role reversal. The last time they had an encounter, she had tricked him and gained the upper hand in his naked vulnerability. Now she was unarmed and helpless and he was in his domain: the 2nd circle of hell. Oh, how the tables have turned.

"Even with a knife at my neck, I still wanted to live. I know what you're wondering, how did I die?" he stated almost nonchalantly. Tifa tried not to let her curiosity show. "It seems fitting, doesn't it? To be killed by a prostitute who got a little too ambitious. I let her get too close and look at what happened. Women can be real bitches, can't they?" he looked at her pointedly. Tifa replied by spitting at him.

"Oh, still feisty. I guess you think I deserve this fate, right? This miserable existence in the realm of punishment for the lustful is where I belong?"

"Yes," she said plainly. She couldn't get the image of the terrified girls with too much blush walking down the Wall Market streets out of her mind's eye. It was burned into her memory, ingrained by the smell of cheap perfume that still hung off Don Corneo, even in hell. He deserved to burn for all the sins of the flesh he had committed against naive girls whom were sold by their desperate mothers in order to survive in the slums. Once, she had witnessed a girl barely over 11 being escorted to his mansion in a gaudy dress and crippling heels. That girl could have easily been Marlene.

"Wrong. I'm not miserable." His lips looked like fat earthworms over his crooked teeth. "Not anymore. Not when I can finally get my satisfaction with you, Tifa Lockhart."

"Shut up." She had had enough. He was only wasting her time when she could be searching elsewhere for Cloud. "Just tell me where he is."

"Who? Him?" He gestured vaguely to his right and a figure began to materialize from the void. The _thump thump thump_ of heavy boots procured a lean man. Tifa paled. Standing before her with blond hair, striking mako-blue eyes and dressed in a black ensemble was Cloud. But before Tifa could utter a word, Cloud spoke in an oddly trenchant tone, "Remember me, slut? It's Trevor. You said you would sleep with me but then you forgot about me once I left for the city. You promised yourself to me that night of your 15th birthday, remember?"

Tifa shook her head slowly, terror flooding into her face. "Trevor… No, I never promised you anything."

"No? Well, you certainly gave yourself easily to that spiky-haired idiot. Now that I look like him, will you accept my offer?"

"Teef." Another Cloud came from Don Corneo's left. "You used to always tease me, running around with those short skirts and tight shirts. Don't pretend like you were innocent—you wanted my attention. How can you help yourself, all the girls in town wanted me."

"No…" Trevor, and she recognized the second as Damon. Two boys that she had grown up with in her hometown. Why were they here, in hell? "You're wrong."

"Are we?" Don Corneo sneered. "You dress like a slut and you have a whore's body. Why did you think Johnny married you? For your personality?" His laughter echoed in the endless darkness. "No man could respect a woman like you. Worth nothing but for a good romp in the hay."

"Trevor, Damon," Tifa pleaded, feeling irrational shame at her state of undress. But her disbelief was greater in the presence of two boys that used to come over to her house for milk and her mother's freshly baked cookies. They had both left along with the other boys in town to find jobs to support their families. How were they killed? "Why are you here? In this… place?"

"Don't judge us! We chose our lifestyles and you chose yours. Not that you're any better. Look where the righteous, high-and-mighty Tifa ended up! With us!" they chortled, using Cloud's images as horrifying mannequins to mess with her sanity, no doubt.

"Where is he," she gritted, berating herself for underestimating the power of hell. She hadn't taken into account the illusions and ghosts of the past that resided in this place of eternal damnation. She shuddered to think that Cloud had joined their past enemies here. She couldn't lose her resolve. He needed her.

The scenery started to change as the bed melted away and the metal floor beneath her feet seemed to pulse and groan with the regularity of machinery. Piping covered the walls like snakes and the sharp smell of refined mako stung her nose. Dread punctured Tifa's already fragile sanity. _A mako reactor?_

The two doppelgangers reached behind them and pulled out matching Buster Swords. Tifa's heart skipped a beat. Somehow, seeing that weapon (that was so distinctly his) aimed towards her awoke a perverse feeling of calm yet also adrenaline. The kind of adrenaline that seemed to replace the blood in her veins and made her muscles itch with anticipation of the fight.

But what stopped her from attacking right away was the familiarity of his stance and the determination in those eyes. Ones that were always aimed at their common enemies, but never at her. Was it possible for him to attack her? Would he fight to kill her? She'd never considered that maybe, even if she did find him, he would not recognize her because they were now of different worlds.

She was given a split-second to react as Don Corneo shape-shifted back into his insulting version of Cloud and the three rushed towards her with swords raised high as the distinct "ShinRa Company: Nibelheim Reactor" sign materialized behind them.

_She kept her eyes closed while taking a shower that night. She washed only her face, arms and feet, pointedly avoiding the voluptuous curves of her body. She was embarrassed by the large tumors of flesh growing out of her chest and ashamed of the gentle slope of her back as it reached the fullness of her behind. But no matter how much she scrubbed, she still felt dirty in her nudity._

_Today had been her 15__th__ birthday. All the kids in the neighborhood had celebrated it in the town plaza near the water tower. The coming of age of Tifa Lockhart, the town sweetheart whom everyone hailed as the perfect little lady. Upon her request, the area was strewn with colorful balloons and pink streamers; bright paper lanterns were lit once night fell and everybody had settled down to friendly chatter. _

_But she wandered off alone to the water tower nearby, her thoughts on a boy who once made her a promise. The boy that left their small town to make something of himself, to be a SOLDIER, to be a hero. Her hero. The boy that always stammered and stuttered and barely says anything, but that night, she felt the first flutter of love under that full tapestry of stars. _

_How long has it been since she saw him last? Whimsically remembering a tender scene between two lovers in a romance novel (she hid it from her father, of course), Tifa thought about how he would greet her when they meet again. He would have surely grown, as did she. She blushed at her next thought. Would he think she was beautiful?_

_She was startled out of her daydreams by her two good friends: Trevor and Damon, who came back to visit from the city where they worked. But Tifa had noticed a change in the two boys she used to hide under blanket tents with and count the stars. Trevor's hands lingered on her waist a little too long after they hugged and Damon's eyes strayed to her chest far too often for comfort. Small comments about her "development" and how she was "ripening" to a woman were preceded by an innocent: "Wow, Tifa. You seem… different." _

_She was always used to attention from the townspeople, but having their warm bodies so close and something almost feral about the gleam in their eyes made her feel sick to her stomach. They told her that she couldn't pretend to be an innocent little lady anymore. She had a whore's body, not fit for nice guys and marriage and commitment. Good thing there were plenty of men who would pay a pretty penny to be with her for a night (including themselves, they added in a tone that caused goose-bumps to sprout all down her arms). She didn't understand why she had to forsake her dreams of shooting stars and knights with bright, beautiful eyes._

_As everybody was filtering back into their homes, Trevor pressed a piece of paper into her hand and (to her disgust) gave her butt a squeeze as he left. Perturbed as to his strange behavior but still curious, she waited until she arrived home with her father, mumbling something about retiring early. In the safety of her pink room with stuffed animals and fluffy princess-themed throw pillows lining her bed, she opened the paper and read it._

_That night, she scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin tore and her flesh felt raw._

Stars winked in her vision when something smacked the back of her head, hard. She tumbled forward and fell painfully on her left shoulder. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to stayon the cool ground and rest but Tifa sucked in her resolve and twisted to the side when the Buster Sword came down without purchase.

She was dying. Her life force pumped out of her wounds as she round-house kicked the nearest version of Cloud and suppressed a shriek as a new wound blossomed in her back. She looked down with unfocused eyes at the tip of the sword peeking through her chest. The bright blood seeping from her punctured lungs into the stark white sheets transfixed her. With a barely audible grunt, the owner of the sword flung her against a pipe so hard that it rattled her bones.

To see the feral glow of Cloud's eyes was frightening; she never thought that it would be directed at her. As the three sauntered up to her, Tifa's frail consciousness took her to Marlene and Denzel. Thinking of them caused tears to sink into the already blood-soaked sheets. (To think, that she was hardly a crier and yet here she was, a mess of body liquids.)

Perhaps this was only just. Perhaps she deserved to die like this. It was almost merciful, she thought, since she had been too cowardly to kill herself before.

She no longer fought as the sword sunk back into her chest from the front. Bile crawled up her throat and she spat out blood, finding it harder and harder to breathe. "You feel violated, don't you?" the Cloud mocked. She tried to see Don Corneo's, Trevor's or Damon's face in the pristine blue of his eyes and the harsh twist of his smirk. Perhaps the fact that she couldn't see them, only Cloud's beautiful face, was the beauty of hell. It searched around for the most tender piece of your heart, the kind that hurt if you just touched it, and ripped it out.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Yes, so much more than the physical pain. More than her body, her soul was drowning and she just wanted it all to end. She didn't think she could hurt anymore but an almost supernatural pain exploded in her already sore chest when he lifted her by the blade of his sword.

"This is for refusing me. Burn in hell, slut." She squirmed while being held in midair—her chest was being torn apart from the inside out. She gripped the blade so hard that her hands bled. Was this how Cloud felt when… that monster had done the same to him? Her heart pumped furiously towards its own demise.

She didn't notice the floor open up and the friction of sharp metal against her innards caused her to black out. All of a sudden, she was falling. The mocking glow of churning mako rushed up to meet her.

"_Is this where he…" She traced the silvery flesh down his chest. He trembled when she kissed it gently. "Teef," he muttered as he caught her lips with his, pressing her to him with a hand on her back. Her body chased away the pain of memory. Her warmth made his body sing in pleasure instead of pain. And when they touched in the most sensitive of places, it didn't make him feel invaded, but complete._

"_I felt violated," he said as they lay in each other's arms. "When he…" he trailed off with a choke and Tifa scooted up to look at his face. The vivid blue of his eyes swallowed her in its sorrow and she leaned in to kiss his forehead. He always had a hard time expressing himself in words and she wanted to assure him that he didn't have to but he continued. "…I thought of you. And… how much it must have hurt when he cut you too." _

_He drew closer to hug her waist and touched his lips to her own silvery scar running across her chest. Instinctively, her hands came up to shield herself from him but he caught them gently. "No," he mumbled, "You're beautiful, Teef. Every part of you is beautiful." Eyes burning, her hands cradled his face to guide his searching mouth to hers. They fell asleep with his face nestled in the warmth of her throat, listening to her heart beating in sync with his._


	4. The Second Circle Part II

Hello everyone! I've reposted this chapter because ChaoticSymphony made a very good point, that I should focus more on the descriptions in order to make my story more convincing. For those who've already read this chapter, I made major changes in the first half of the chapter, in the scenes, not flashbacks. Some changes might alter your initial view of the chapter, so please look through them. Thank you, everyone! I hope you enjoy the revised version of Chapter 4!

**Permanent **

**By UnfalteringDream**

**Chapter 4: The Second Circle (Part II)**

Someone was shaking her, hard. The dry ground seemed to churn in torrential waves and the very air was thick and reeked of vile sweat. But as the person kept calling her, the sensations creeping over her skin that once seemed to overwhelm her grew weaker and her strength returned. Her eyelids were heavy but she forced her eyes open to have a familiar face come into view. "Vincent…?" she whispered, feeling a thick bundle of emotion rise in her throat.

"Tifa. Hurry, you have to get up."

"I… Vincent, thank _God_." Her throat closed up as she sobbed in relief, gripping his arms tight. She was expecting… to be drowning in a sea of mako? Having all her assailants rip her to shreds? Or worse, being violated by that despicable Don Corneo?

"I'll explain as we move. But now, you have to try to stand up."

She strained on aching muscles and with his help, managed to her feet, albeit her legs were still shaky. She looked at her body to find her clothes and gloves back on and touched her healed chest. She flexed her arm and felt the warmth of materia magic under her skin. It was as if nothing had happened. But she still felt the dry trail of tears on her cheeks.

"Quickly," Vincent said, already melting into the shadows along the walls. Shaking off the dread and anger she had felt from her last encounter with Don Corneo, Trevor and Damon, she patted the Cloudy Wolf ring in her pocket and followed Vincent down the dark hallway. Wind passed through the walls in slow, shallow breaths and she covered her nose because the air was humid with human sweat. Little light could crawl into the place, so Tifa kept her squinting eyes trained on the flowing movement of Vincent's blood-red cape.

A scream was pulled from her throat as a demon's claw caught her leg. Relinquishing her fear to the pull of instinct, she silenced the howling demon with a rush of punches. Several more arose from the sullied earth, with gaping eye-sockets, long, luxurious hair and the full, voluptuous bodies of women, save for a minor change. Her stomach twisted in disgust but she found she could not peel her eyes away. Their breasts had been sliced clean off. Their rib bones protruded from the place where their breasts should have been, like gleaming teeth against the glaring red gums of their cut flesh. The wretched souls convulsed and caressed their wounds as they moved but an eternity of tending the gash on their bodies and the ache in their hearts could never bring relief.

Vincent shot at them without mercy but Tifa didn't have the luxury of a far-ranged weapon. The feel of her knuckles impacting flesh was too reminiscent of the days she would kill for an unsure cause. From the day she buried her past, she had vowed never to hurt a defenseless person, let alone women. And these demons were such a perversion of souls that were once human that Tifa felt such a strong surge of pity for their tortured state that she almost turned tail and ran from this manifestation of her greatest weakness. After the journey ended, she had piled the role of mother, wife and business owner onto the filth of her past. She spent years nursing the guilt that plagued her from her sins, taking baby steps forward up a steep mountain; she was sliding backwards with each knockout blow she delivered, feeling more and more like the ruthless killer she once was.

It took Tifa a long time to realize that they were trying to communicate something to her.

_Jussst… loved him. Jusssst wanted to give… my beloved sssssomething_.

_Pleassssse… help me. I jusssst couldn't help… myssssself._

_It wasssss jussssst work… Pleasssse, my family… needed the money!_

Sensing her increasing growing hesitation, Vincent shouted above the wailing and gunshots, "Don't listen to them! These wretched souls are eternally damned to the second circle of hell! They are no longer human!" With a powerful swing of his gun, so much blood poured through the clean cut that Tifa had a memory of Denzel bursting a water balloon in the kitchen. _Denzel! Look at all this water! You're going to mop this up, young man! _She shook her head, grasping for her fleeting sanity.

_I was beautiful! Now look at me! My beautiful breasts!_ One voice rang clear as a bell above the others. Her body was bare save for an outrageous, exposing costume. A large fake stinger was attached to her hips and miniature wings were strapped to her shoulders. A headdress replicating a bee's eyes and antennas sat on fair hair. _I didn't want to do it! Don Corneo; he broke me! He lied and said the Honeybee Inn would provide for me!_

"Vincent! She is a victim of Don Corneo!" Tifa gripped the girl's shoulders, trying not to recoil at the feel of cold, rotting flesh disguised as living skin.

Vincent shouted, "Tifa, look out!" as a gut-wretching pain exploded in Tifa's chest, so terrible that she could not even scream. The demon had dragged its claws down her left breast, pulling more than half of the tender flesh along with it. Tifa shoved the demon away from her, channeling the black magic in her arm as the pain in her chest momentarily vanished against the mighty force of the lifestream using her body as a temple for its will. Light burst in radiant fury, drowning the shrieks of damned souls in its might but it ended abruptly. The lightening attack was weak and fizzled out too soon. The voices of the Ancients strained faintly in her ear before disappearing altogether.

"We're wasting time!" Vincent admonished and Tifa's heart jumped at the urgency in his tone. She raised her fists with renewed energy but kept a hand cradling her shredded breast. There were so many of them, each of their screams trenchant and shrill as they descended upon them with claws outstretched. Having only enough strength left to summon magic, Tifa strained to call upon the lifestream, only to be answered with silence. "My materia, it's not working!" Tifa realized. Vincent only mumbled, "I was afraid of this."

A great force beat through the ground beneath their feet and the demons stopped their attacks. From somewhere unfathomable, inhumane shrieks sounded. Tifa stumbled backward into Vincent, her ears filled with a foreboding rumbling.

A wind picked up, so great that Tifa felt as if her hair was being pulled out from the roots and her skin was peeling away from her bones. Acting quickly, Vincent dug his claw into the ground and used his human hand to grab Tifa's. He pulled her beneath him and shielded her body with his until the hurricane passed and the shrieks faded.

Once he stood, Vincent ripped a piece of fabric off his cape. He knelt next to Tifa, prying her hand away from her bloody chest. "The wound's deep," he said apologetically, wincing at the gruesome sight. He could only imagine how much it must hurt. The fabric around her chest will have to suffice. "We have to move. Minos is here, he can tell us where Cloud is." At the mention of Cloud, Tifa's eyes focused and the pain dulled against the vigorous pounding of her heart.

"_How come you didn't wear this on the honeymoon?"_

_Tifa looked up from the dishes at Yuffie's innocent inquiry. "Oh my—" she squeaked and snatched the offensive article of clothing, turning a brilliant shade of red. "Yuffie! Where did you get this?"_

"_I found it in your drawer, of course!" the hyperactive ninja grinned and then slammed her hands on the spotless counter. Despite her chagrin, Tifa wanted to scold the younger woman for leaving fingerprints on the counter she had just painstakingly wiped. But she was more in favor of pointedly avoiding Yuffie's serious gaze._

"_Listen Tifa. Everybody knows that though Chocobo-head is practically bursting with testosterone—I mean, look at the way he fights!-, he can't express his feelings to a girl he likes to save his life! Heck, look at how long it took you two to get hitched! Gosh, I don't know how you waited so long! If I were you, I would've been all over that hot piece of—"_

"_Yuffie!" If possible, Tifa's cheeks turned even redder. "Lower your voice; the kids are sleeping and he's going to be walking in any minute!" Though Cloud usually got home from his deliveries well after 7__th__ Heaven closed and Tifa had gone to bed to wait for him, Yuffie didn't need to know that. _

"_What? I'm just telling you the honest truth. Anyhoo, the reason why I bring this up is this: If he ever saw you in THIS—"she grabbed the outfit from Tifa's clutches to dangle it in front of her. "—He wouldn't have waited all those stinkin' years to 'fess up to you. Seriously."_

_Tifa buried her burning face in her hand and then groaned when she realized that her hands were still soapy from the dishes. As she washed the soap off her face, Yuffie continued, unabashed in her comments._

"_What is this, a skanky cowgirl outfit? Do you have matching boots, too? Wow, look at this top! Only someone with your cup size could look good in it. And look at this skirt—it's so cute! And short! It could rival your skirt from our AVALANCHE days! God knows you had all the guys drooling then, but if they all saw you in THIS-"_

"_Yuffie!" Tifa cut in, her hands gripping the counter (Oh well, it was already dirtied!). "Please put that outfit back where you found it."_

"_Why? Cloud had a long day of deliveries today, why don't you wear it for him when he gets home?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively._

"_Yuffie…"_

"_Come on! Fulfill the poor guy's fantasies once in a while! You know, men won't stay if you don't—"_

"_Wait. Fantasies?"_

"_Yeah. Don't you know?" Yuffie looked at her wide-eyed. "You didn't know that Cloud has a cowgirl fetish?"_

"_What?" Tifa was flabbergasted. "Why would—who—where did you get that ridiculous idea?"_

"_It's not ridiculous, it's true! When we used to camp out during our whirlwind adventures and Cid would take the first watch, he said he heard Cloud mumbling in his sleep about some girl looking cute in a cowgirl outfit but he was too embarrassed to talk to her for some reason. Something about not keeping a promise to her or something. Cid said that it happened often enough to be branded as a fetish. I was going to tell you about this dream cowgirl and how you should fulfill his fantasy on your honeymoon night but silly me, I completely forgot until I raided your drawer and lo-and-behold! A deluxe cowgirl outfit that is the epitome of any guy's dreams! Tifa, I'm telling you as one woman to another. You gotta dress up as that cowgirl to erase all that terrible feeling of longing for what he can't have. You gotta show him that that girl's not real but you are. That you're better than some skanky, prepubescent—oh yeah, he would mumble how great she looked though she was only 15! Ew, I never knew Cloud was a pedophile!—dream girl who couldn't hold a candle to your assets!"_

"_Yuffie… it's getting late," Tifa muttered, the light of revelation settling in her eyes._

"_Ugh, you're a tough cookie to crack, Tifa Lockheart. Fine. Lose out to that fake dream girl. You better hope Cloud snaps out of his fetish soon, or else your marriage might be in trouble!"Yuffie warned before getting off the bar stool and bouncing out the door but not before shooting Tifa a meaningful look. Tifa gave her a small smile and a wave._

"These pitiful souls are swept helplessly through the gales of wind, never hoping for rest." Vincent answered her unspoken question as they made their way through the dank, open corridor. The storm raged in the distance, seeming to conquer the dark heavens with the despair of all caught in its ire. "No hope ever comforts them, not of repose, not of less pain. This is the punishment for them having been swept into sin by their insatiable desires."

Because the hurricane winds had ripped off the roof, Tifa could now glance about her surroundings. She caught fleeting glimpses of carvings that made her skin crawl: women, men and animals engaged in various acts of intercourse, with each other, with themselves, in all sorts of positions that defiled the beauty of joining two soul mates in matrimony. She tore her eyes away, the images burned into her mind's eye. Fornication, sodomy, homosexuality, all these things were depicted in detail on the walls of the second circle to represent the guilt of the ones that reside in them. She didn't know how she could take it, if she were to roam through hallways mapping out her sins, forced to live through all the evil she had done in her life over and over, for all eternity. _Staying in that apartment alone, with nothing left to distract him, how much time has he had to suffer through his memories? Is it a wonder that he took his life? So our family wasn't enough of a distraction for him… _

Tifa skidded to a halt as the corridor ended and her eyes rested upon an endless stream of humans, stripped of their clothes, lives, dignity and hope as they cried out their laments. So many bodies, clinging to their hope for redemption when they were already beyond hope. Their bare feet marched on the cold stone in the steady rhythm of shock. First at realizing that they're dead. Then at waking up in hell. Then at realizing that hell is just an extension of the painful reality of their own shambled lives.

_Mom, what's going to happen to Mr. Fluffy?_

_Where all kitties go when they die: kitty heaven._

_Will he know he's in heaven? _

_His death will be painless, so he probably won't even realize that he's dead at first. In fact, I'm sure his heaven is a replica of our home, where he's going to be waiting for us to join him. You see, heaven is just the place where you feel most happy. Except in heaven, there is no pain._

Vincent moved forward to join them as if in a trance, muttering below his breath: "Always before him many of them stand; they go by turns each one unto the judgment; they speak, and hear, and then are downward hurled." She wrapped her arms around herself as she hurried after him. It was so cold; wasn't hell supposed to be warm and fiery? But the souls damned to eternal pain didn't seem to notice such trivial details. Some walked the boundless stone bridge silently, still dignified in their nakedness, while others wept bitter tears into their desecrated hands. Even children, the ones most scared and shaking the hardest, were following the rest, sobbing loudly for their mothers. "Dear God," Tifa couldn't suppress her gasp. _What have they done in their short lives to deserve this?_

One little girl who didn't look older than five years old, with dirty brown hair matted to her head and neck with grime and clutching her bare tummy with little hands, kept crying out in between much hiccups and sniffling, "Mommy! I can't find you! Where are you, Mommy?" _Tifa, I'm here. It was just a bad dream, Mommy's here_.

A booming voice from the far end of the line announced their sins. Echoing screams followed each. _Heresy. Avarice. Gluttony. Suicide_.

"Judgment awaits them at the end of the line," Vincent's _clicking-clacking_ footsteps were a sharp contrast to the soft patter of feet. "Minos, the judge of the dead, assigns them to their circle of hell."

_I wondered if I could continue living the way I was._, Tifa thought as Vincent gave her a fleeting look of remorse. _If someone else asked me the same question then I would answer that they should live on no matter what happened. But for myself, I was never so sure. One day, am I to receive judgment for my sins? Am I going to be marching down this same bridge from my happy fantasy of a life to the true reality God has deemed for me?_

_No, there is still time to repent and atone for sins, because…_ "We're still alive," she said, more to herself than to him. "We are not the ones waiting to be judged."

She nearly walked into the soul in front of her before she realized that the line of damned sinners had stopped walking and quieted. One by one, they turned their faces to her. Somehow, she would have preferred to see taut skin stretched over hollow cheekbones, sunken eyes, dry, chapped lips, and greasy, thin strands of hair. As a cold hand seized her heart, she recognized the familiar set of brown eyes framed by raven-black hair around a pale face. The similarity was down to the single pearl earring they wore on their left ear. The five year old girl stopped sniffling, turning to her with a pearl earring swinging by her ears, looking at her with large brown eyes puffy from crying.

_I don't deserve this… I don't deserve this… I don't deserve this…._ They hissed in that familiar voice, in that familiar tone, with that familiar ting of sorrow around the edges. "Ignore them," Vincent said, but the accusations seeped through her skin.

_After Yuffie left, she fingered the soft fabric, feelings of both revulsion and wistfulness bubbling to the surface of her memories. What seemed like ages ago, she had heard from her neighbors that some first class SOLDIERs were coming to her hometown and naturally, her pulse jumped at the thought of seeing Cloud again. Of course, he must have had plenty of admirers that all vied for his attention, and she worried day and night over how to have him notice her. And so, she shyly pulled out the cowgirl outfit she had bought without her father's permission and reminded herself that in order to win a man's heart, she had to use all the weapons in her arsenal._

_But when her father did catch her in the outfit, he accused her of being a slut and secretly having sex with every boy in the village. After all, that explained why all her friends were male. Tifa vehemently disagreed and tried to tell him that the real reason was to impress the only boy that she had ever loved. But he didn't listen and neither did any of her so-called friends. And on the night of her 15__th__ birthday, Trevor and Damon showed their true repulsive colors. After tearing the note to shreds, Tifa hugged herself in the corner of her room. She didn't deserve this. She was just an innocent girl in love._

_She had been so young then, not sure how to act and dress around men and therefore getting plenty of unwanted attention from admiring men and slandering women. She spent years nursing the hurt and humiliation at the hands of her peers and strangers who looked at her like a piece of meat rather than a human being. But the ring on her finger was testament that somebody loved for more than her looks. And that somebody was her beloved lifelong hero with gentle eyes and sunshine hair._

_Long after the bar closed, Cloud Strife trudged into the house through the garage door, itching to wash off the thick layer of grime and sweat encrusted on his skin. After taking a quick shower and tiptoeing past the kids' room, he opened the door of his and Tifa's bedroom slowly, careful not to make it squeak. His mako-enhanced eyes fixed on the bundle in the bed; he smiled softly as he turned to leave for his office bed so as not to disturb her sleep._

"_And where do you think you're going?" A husky voice sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. As he turned back to the 'sleeping' bundle on the bed, his baby-blue eyes widened comically. Tifa bit back a giggle at the sight of Cloud staring shamelessly at her with his tongue all but hanging out. Though they were both well into their twenties, she felt 15 again and Cloud was practically radiating teenage hormones._

"_Te…Teef? Wh…what are you wearing?" he stuttered and swallowed with a loud gulp._

"_Feeling hot and bothered?" she teased, looking at him from under long eyelashes. He smiled nervously and pulled at the neck of his black turtleneck. She drew close to him slowly, her boots thump thumping on the floor, smiling guilelessly as she said, "A little birdie told me that you used to dream about some cute cowgirl." He looked so cute when he was all shy and embarrassed like a boy caught stealing a cookie. "Teef, you should know that that cute cowgirl was you back in Nibelheim," he mumbled, peering at her through his bangs, his hand scratching the back of his head._

"_Oh, I know," she giggled as her long fingers played with the zipper on his turtleneck. He sucked in a sharp breath and she pressed her lips to his, muttering, "I just wanted to know I hadn't dressed to impress in vain."_

The judge named Minos peered at Tifa and Vincent through hollow eye-sockets, his massive tail flicking the ground like a whip, sending tremors through the ground. His eternally decaying skin was stretched thin across his protruding cheekbones, his tail lined with dark scales. "Ones of the living?" his emphatic voice resounded over the howling storm. "Who are you?"

"I am here to retrieve the soul of Cloud Strife," Tifa said firmly, taking the several steps forward to be face to face with the grotesque Minos. She hoped that he could see the resolve and honesty in her gaze. Laughter erupted from behind her and her hands clenched into fists. Still, they used her own voice to mock her. Vincent was silent beside her.

"Please, tell me where you sent him."

"I sense only a traitor, a glutton, a murderer, an attempted suicide… and you are branded by the whores," his bony finger was pointed at her chest. "You are foolish to think you can save the soul of another, when yours is already so thoroughly damned!"

She fell to her knees in anguish at the clear verdict of her sins. The laughter behind her grew as Vincent stepped forward. "Please, tell us where to find the soul of Cloud Strife!"

"Where all suicides go to suffer for all eternity."

"What circle?" Vincent pressed.

"She can pass no further," Minos roared, slamming his mighty tail into the ground. "For the many that she had caused to be damned to the second circle, she must join them as punishment for her sin!"

At once, Tifa was swept up by winds so forceful, it felt like she was drowning in a cold sea. She vaguely felt Vincent's hand brush hers before several hands pulled her into the current. The violent winds tore through her clothes, whipping her. "No!" she tried to scream but nothing came out of her gasping mouth. She felt Don Corneo's grubby fingers gripping her waist tight and smelled his foul breath on her face. Countless hands were grabbing at her clothes and pulling her hair.

"Embrace your fate, Tifa Lockheart!" Trevor and Damon's voices poured into her fleeting consciousness. "You are damned to the second circle of hell for what you had done to us! You made us into the monsters we are!" She couldn't breathe, the wind was too strong and she felt the lure of eternal sleep like a siren call.

Her torn breast burned.

_There was a time when Cloud arrived home early from his day of deliveries and sat himself at a corner table with his map spread, charting his route for the next day. His sword was leaned against the wall beside his table, but out of the way so Tifa wouldn't trip over it. Though he used the excuse of preferring the light from the bar than his dim office light (though he had a bright lamp), his real reason for sitting so close to the counter, where Tifa busied herself with orders, was to proclaim his role as the alpha male of the family. Because 7__th__ Heaven was a bar, there were always those sleaze-balls that tried something. Especially since the bartender could make a man turn weak in the knees with one look from those warm brown eyes. _

_He smiled as stopped in front of him to place a glass of water on his table, carefully away from his map, and gave him a peck on the cheek. That earned him more jealous looks from some pitiful bachelors at table 5, but Cloud had never felt more grateful to have Tifa as his wife. With a body like the promised land, a personality like whipped cream on hot chocolate and a smile like sunshine on a cloudy day (pun intended), he still felt an inkling of fear that this was all just a wonderful dream and one day he would wake up cold and alone in an empty apartment with only vestiges of Tifa, Marlene and Denzel to comfort him._

"_Wow," a patron at the table next to him gave a low whistle. "Look at those legs, mm!" Cloud knew exactly whom the man was talking about and his grip on his pen tightened. _

"_Wow, and that chest! She looks like a cover girl for Playboy magazine, eh?" the man laughed and his friend agreed heartedly. "Hey, I heard from Johnny that she's got a lil' outfit from her teenage years—a cowgirl outfit! Haha! I heard that as soon as he took one look at her, he had to run home and take a cold shower! A girl that dresses like that is definitely asking for it! Heh, the village slut. Not that I'm complaining, you know what I mean?" _

_Cloud was seeing red. The pen had snapped in his hand and the ink was running down his fist. He kept reminding himself that the man and his friend were patrons at the bar that was currently helping pay the bills, but his instinct was overruling his rational mind._

"_Someone who looks like her must be worth a lot. Maybe this is only her day job. She probably gives a lot of business to the local whorehouse, huh? How much do you think she is for a night? You think she'll be willing to give me a free sample since I only got 10 gil left on me—"_

_Cloud's hand was clamped around the man's thick neck, his other hand clenching the hilt of his sword so hard that his fingers were white. "Hey, what the hell, man?" The man's friend shouted, but his face paled once he noticed Cloud's sword. Cloud couldn't hear anything because there was an angry buzzing in his ear as he squeezed the man's neck harder and harder, lifting his sword to prepare for a death blow._

"_Cloud! What are you doing?" Tifa's angry voice shook him out of his haze and Cloud let go of the man's throat. The pathetic piece of lard choked and wheezed, his face turning from an unhealthy purple to a flushed pink. His friend clambered away as soon as Cloud took a step back once he realized that all the other customers were gone as well. Denzel and Marlene had come running down the staircase in their nightgowns, as wide-eyed as frightened does._

"_Cloud!" Tifa scolded, her eyes flashing. "You scared away all the customers! What has gotten into you? Oh, sir, I'm so sorry," she said, kneeling down with an apologetic frown._

"_Don't go near that bastard," Cloud growled like the possessive alpha-wolf he was. The man took one look at the sword in Cloud's hand and scrambled to his feet, sprinting out the door. After Tifa reassured the children that everything was alright and shooed them back to bed, she turned to look at her husband, placing a hand on his heaving chest in an effort to calm him. "Cloud?" she simply asked, directing his dazed blue eyes to hers as she raised her hand to his left cheek. Just like that, her initial angry melted to worry and understanding. Her other hand came to rest on his right cheek, her eyes searching his and she breathed softly, desperately, "Come back to me." Gods, he loved her._

"_You're not like that," he muttered. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Not like what?"_

"_Like THAT," he said stubbornly. And she knew she wasn't getting more out of him, so she just gave her soft smile and allowed him to draw her close to him. Resting his face in the crook of her neck, he breathed in her sweet scent. _

"_You saved yourself for me." She was confused, but stayed silent so he would continue. "That night, the night of our honeymoon, you gave your whole self to me, trusting me. After I left Nibelheim, you didn't know if I would come back. When we met again, I wasn't acting like myself and I was cold to you. We nearly died so many times. And yet, you saved yourself for me and me alone."_

"_It was always only you, Cloud," she whispered into his hair and his heartbeat skipped to double time at her confession. _

"_All those men, they don't know." She tugged at his hair to lift his head so she could see honest blue eyes. He kissed her so tenderly it made her heart ache. "I promise to blind all those men who had defiled you with their eyes, body and mind. They only see a woman too beautiful to be faithful, to be real. But I see you, Tifa Strife. You're a lifelong dream come true."_

The back of her eyes burned when the memory punctured the numbness. No, she couldn't give up. She was not responsible for the damnation of these souls. Their sin was of their own will. If anything, Cloud had made it clear why he once loved her. She didn't belong here.

"NO!" It burst out of her, echoing like a vindication and with a mighty swing of her legs, Trevor and Damon let go with a savage shriek. But Don Corneo acted quickly, grabbing her arms and holding them tight behind her as other lustful demons pulled off her leather gloves and tried to grab onto her legs. Tangled like this, the winds lashed them through the air without hope of rest or escape. Tifa's mind raced, trying to think despite the deafening gale in her ears and her burning chest. Her gloves were gone and her materia wasn't working. She needed something that could cut tissue and tear flesh open.

"Give it up! You are mine for all eternity! How I've waited for this day!" Don Corneo howled, his true demonic form bubbling up from under his human guise. "Abandon all hope of escape! You're—AHHH!" With all her might, Tifa twisted his arms holding her hands, reached into her apron pocket for her Cloudy Wolf ring and slipped it on.

As Don Corneo scrambled to reach for her again, she drew the hand with the ring back, every ounce of energy from her body inundating her veins to gather in that clenched fist. It was not like using materia magic, but Tifa felt a power surge from inside her, so overwhelming that she could not contain it any longer. With an animalistic cry, Tifa lurched forward, watching Don Corneo's pupils dilate as her powerful fist closed in on them.

_Even the punishments of hell are not enough for the monster that you are_, she thought as she kicked off on his body, her forearms crossed in front of her face as a shield as she broke free from the prevailing hurricane snaking through the air. The demonic soul of Don Corneo was screaming terribly, holding his face with his hands as warm blood gushed through his fingers, leaving a stream of red trailing behind him like some gruesome shooting star.

Once, a sunshine prince had given her a shy smile as she knighted him with a promise. _Cloud, you always did keep your promises_.

After flipping through the air to land on steady ground, she tried to stand too quickly and felt a wave of nausea swell in her stomach. When Vincent finally reached her side, she was keeled over, choking on her own vomit. The acrid smell of blood and bile drying in her hair and on her clothes caused several additional bouts of dry heaves.

"Tifa—"

"Do you know where he is?"

"Tifa, it's not too late to turn back. It will only get worse. And besides, your chest…"

"Is fine. Please, tell me where he is, Vincent."

"Minos is outraged. We are of the living, it's not yet our time—"

She stood swiftly, grabbing his shoulders with a hysterical gleam in her eyes. "WHERE IS CLOUD?"

The effort from shouting brought about another vomiting fit. Vincent knelt before her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he watched her struggle to breathe, a ghastly rose blossoming through the fabric on her chest.

"Suicide woods. The seventh circle."


	5. The Third Circle Part I

Hello! Sorry this chapter took so darn long—China was amazing but I was so busy that I barely had time to sleep. We are now on to the third circle! Please fasten your seatbelts because this chapter is kind of heavy. Actually, the farther along in the circles we travel, the more emotional it gets. I hope you stay with me until the end of the ride! Please enjoy Chapter 5!

_Note_: I reposted Chapter 4 because ChaoticSymphony made the wonderful point that in a story such as this, there should be a more abundant amount of description of the surroundings. With such wonderful advice, I had to go back and revise a bit. Please check it out when you have the chance!

And now, to my lovely reviewers: (**ChaoticSymphony**:) Thank you so much for your wonderful suggestions! I don't have much experience writing these types of stories (in fact, this is the first time. I'm usually the person that does the sappy high school romance fics...) so your comments really help me! You seem really accomplished in the field of action/suspense so I'm really grateful for your suggestions! And ah! You picked up on the scar! Well, you'll see later how it plays out later. (**Dawn Fire Angel**:) Aw, thank you so much! That's exactly how I wanted this fic to be seen: dark yet pretty, so thank you! I'm not so worried about getting a lot of reviews on this fic because I've been getting some very nice, constructive reviews from authors like you so I'm satisfied! I know it's confusing but it does develop a general pattern after a while, so I hope it gets less confusing! Angst is awesome, so don't fight the urge. And I admit, all I listen to are sad songs as I write "Permanent" because it's a sad fic overall. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Permanent **

**By UnfalteringDream**

**Chapter 5: The Third Circle**

They were running for what seemed like an eternity. Tifa's legs were softening, but she kept moving, tightening her muscles each time they felt like giving out. Every now and then, she listened for the whisper of movement beneath the distant screams behind her that was Vincent. The cobble stones beneath their feet disappeared imperceptibly, melting into soft archaic dirt that molded to their footsteps and made it even harder to run.

Though it was expected, Tifa's heartbeat still skidded when the world fell away and all physical sensations save for the feel of liquid caressing her skin was snuffed out as quickly as a candle. She had been plunged into the water unceremoniously, gravitating towards the deep. This time, she was able to draw her arms and legs into herself, and wait. The still water cradled her, as warm and comforting as an old cotton blanket.

Then the waves came, throwing her back and forth and she straightened in alarm, legs kicking to the surface and arms reaching out blindly for the next manifestation. A clap of thunder broke her out of her lethargy.

The blinding light burned even behind closed eyelids and a sudden shout sounded next to her ear.

"You bitch!" The light faded as quickly as it came and Tifa barely had time to see a plump face stained blood-red with fury before the clutched fist came down. Her arm came up reflexively and caught the fist. The person was a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair escaping her bun, her clean gray dress wrinkled from physical exertion. Tifa's response came automatically, as fluid and proverbial as slipping into a pair of well-worn slippers, "You are causing a disturbance in my bar. Please leave."

And she calmly shut the door in the woman's fuming face. Tifa's body moved of its own accord, all traces of cuts, bruises, dirt, vomit and even the wound on her breast gone as if they've never existed. She slipped into her comfortable routine, smiling at the rowdy group of construction workers that came every Tuesday, making a mental note to start the dish washer again after one cycle because she had put extra bleach, putting an extra shot of Bourbon into a customer's _Haggis _upon request. And all the while, running through her mental book of recipes as her hand weaved through the endless bottles of liquor, throwing in a dash of this, a teaspoon of that, and always, extra shots of alcohol for this part of the night was populated by the heaviest drinkers in town.

_A.S.S. On Flames_: _1 oz. Amaretto, 1 splash Rum, 1 oz. sour apple pucker…_

"Thanks to Tifa, my nosy wife is out of my hair for the night!" A regular raised his glass after Tifa had shut the door on his wife, who had no doubt come to Seventh Heaven in search of her husband. The auburn liquid sloshed onto his shirt as his arm shook; his eyes red and bleary. His friends hollered in agreement, chanting Tifa's name as a heroine. "Tifa! Tifa! Defender of good times! Chaser of nagging wives!" The barmaid's answering smile didn't reach her eyes.

_Gables Collins: 1 oz. Crème de Noyaux, 1 ½ oz. Vodka…_

A rugged man with a scar marring his otherwise handsome face gave her a wink as his hand shot out to stroke her behind. Balancing a tray in one hand, her other twisted around to pin his wrist to the table, a huge smile slapped upon her face. The man was slow to react to the pain, numbed by alcohol and the fumes of smoke clouding the atmosphere. "Sorry Jack," his buddies roared with laughter as he nursed his wrist, Tifa having left their table to tend to another. "You can only see, not touch. "

Their neighboring table overheard and one turned to slap Jack's shoulder as a confidant. "Aw, the guy's so drunk he can barely see straight. Can't blame him for forgetting his manners."

_Macbeth:_ _2 tsp. Amaretto, 2 tsp. Curacao, blue…_

A small bachelor party was going on in a small, noisy corner. Their laughter expanded with each refill of their glasses, their eyes leering lecherously at the pretty barmaid. Their mouths spewed beer and perverted jokes, caroling degrading makeshift songs each time Tifa came near and though she warned that she would kick them out if they continued to do so, inwardly she knew she would just have to bear it. Most of the group was some of her best customers. She owed a huge chunk of her income to their loyalty. So she bit her tongue and grinned when they called her over for the fourteenth time.

_U-Boat: 1 part Rum, spiced, 1 part Jägermeister…_

Soon after the bar closed and the haze of smoke, laughter and fatigue was still filtering out, Tifa's mind registered that Cloud had come home. This time, she knew that he was with her, but not really. Still, her heart ached as she approached him, her arms coming around him, the move as involuntary as her breathing. But to her surprise, he touched her arms gently and brought them down to her sides, his bright blue eyes looking deep into hers. We need to talk, that intense stare said and she nodded with a frown, though her cheeks were hurting from having to smile for so long.

It wasn't the first fight they had, but it was one of the worst. In the back of her mind, Tifa was grateful that Marlene and Denzel were with Barrett for the weekend at the Gold Saucer, otherwise they would be frightened to find their guardians at each other's throats, fists clenching and eyes flashing. Why was Cloud so unhappy? She wondered if something had happened during his deliveries that day and he needed to blow off some steam, but he shouted that there was nothing wrong with his business, but there were many things wrong with hers. She got defensive, reminding him that the bar accounted for more than 75% of their income and though yes, she wasn't happy with the customers and the overall atmosphere that Seventh Heaven had turned into (economic depressions usually corresponded with more lost souls seeking comfort in alcohol), but the bills were piling up as is and they couldn't afford to change course or else their profits ran the risk of plummeting.

He started shouting then, his voice husky because he normally didn't speak above a whisper. The men undressed his wife with their eyes, humiliated his wife with their lewd comments, attempted to grope his wife with their lecherous hands. How could he sit still and let this continue? He refused to allow them to go on this way, for she was his wife, damn it, and his alone.

His and his alone? Tifa was incredulous. He didn't own her and she was old enough to make her own decisions. She was the one with the sound judgment and she reminded him that she had been running a bar since she was fifteen. She knew how to handle herself and her customers. If he didn't have faith enough in her, then perhaps they should separate their respective incomes instead of pooling them together as they have been doing.

He tried to get it through to her that he wasn't concerned with their income but rather her dignity but Tifa wouldn't have it. In a bout of rage and utter desperation, Cloud overturned a table, howling in his agony. No matter how much he needed to express his anger physically (for he had been doing that his whole life, getting into fights even when he was a boy), he could never hurt her. She hadn't noticed it the first time, but he looked at her as if his heart that had already been bandaged too many times, had again been ripped open. She had been too angry herself to notice he was deeply hurt by her misinterpretation of his anger. He went back out, muttering about needing some time to himself, not needing to tell her for her to know that he was taking a ride on Fenrir to collect himself. Once the door slammed for the second time that night, Tifa stood very still for a very long time. The fight was even more painful when reliving it the second time.

But like the first time, she mourned that she didn't have an escape like Cloud did. Then her eyes settled on an unfinished drink (_Pacific Blue_, her mind offered automatically) sitting innocently on the counter, its fruity essence beckoning like a siren.

_Pacific Blue_: _1 oz. Rum, mango, 1 oz. Rum, pineapple_…

She was startled awake by pounding. Someone was shouting her name from the door. She raised her head slowly from the counter as to not agitate her hangover, looking around at the numerous glasses cluttered around her. If she was still in the same position as she was last night, then that meant Cloud wasn't back yet.

She was greeted at the door by a couple of her regulars, their faces deadly solemn and some looked as if they've been crying. The one that addressed her she recognized as Paul, the man whose wife she had turned away last night. "Reina, Jim and Lily…" His wife, son and daughter.

"They're dead." She couldn't mask the horror on her face and didn't need to ask how because he fell to his knees, clutching her arms and whispered the last part as if confessing to a priest.

"I killed them."

_Absinthe, or better known as The Green Fairy._

Made from the Wormwood herb, it was banned from several cities due to its extremely high alcohol content and the tendency for those who consume it to lose all their better judgment and do wild things that they normally wouldn't even dream of, acting totally on impulse. Ranking at 144 proof, it is usually to be drunk with water poured in an Absinthe spoon with a sugar cube on it to make it taste better and lessen the effects. Tifa had fought tooth and nail to get special permission to serve it at Seventh Heaven, because so many of her patrons demanded it.

Paul had had several shots of Absinthe last night. After he left the bar, he blanked out. He couldn't remember how he found his way home, or what happened after that. But when he woke up on his kitchen floor, he had felt a heavy object in his hand. It turned out to be a bloody knife. Horrified, he checked his body to make sure it wasn't his blood. When he found no cuts on his body, his relief didn't last long. For lying on the floor not too far from where he was, was his wife and two young children, eyes wide and glassy in death.

At the funeral, when Tifa went up to pay her respects, instead of seeing little Jimmy and Lily lying in their miniature coffins, Denzel and Marlene's serene faces rested amid the foray of yellow Chrysanthemums. Her hands shook as she approached the wife's casket, not believing that the plump, pale face belonged to the same woman that thrown sharp curses at her just the night before.

The police waited for Paul at the funeral and as soon as the service ended, closed the handcuffs around his wrists. Tifa led the remaining company of men back to Seventh Heaven with promises of free drinks. Though her tone was bright, her hung head and dragging footsteps spoke volumes of her inward struggle. Paul may have been the murderer, but she had been the one to provide him the drinks that made him bring the knife down without a second thought. Still, she continued serving the drinks as if nobody had died, nobody had gone to jail for murder and a cheery household hadn't shattered overnight. As the other men nursed their alcohol silently, she reached for the nearest drink and downed it in one gulp.

_Ragged Company_: 1 tsp. Benedictine, 2 oz. Bourbon, ½ ounce Vermouth, sweet…

"Tifa Lockhart, welcome to the Third Circle."

"Paul… please forgive me," she stuttered. She blinked, and Paul was standing before her with the visage of a man who rotted away in a jail cell for the last few decades of his life. Another blink, and the other men at the tables had disappeared.

"Forgive…? Does a bitch like you deserve forgiveness?" he roared, grabbing the edge of a table and flipping it over. Before it hit the floor, Tifa blinked and it vanished. "This is truly hell," he gritted his teeth together as his shoulders shook. "Where a man can't even get physical satisfaction from overturning a table."

Instinct told Tifa to sneak away when there was no reason to fight, but then she remembered that she wasn't really in Seventh Heaven, that the squeaky floorboards weren't really beneath her feet, that Cloud wasn't really arriving home right now. He didn't seem to notice Paul's presence as he closed the door gently behind him, starting towards her with his blue eyes soft and loving, his mouth moving slowly. "Tifa. I'm sorry…"

Her eyes watered as she held them open for as long as possible to have Cloud reach her across the bar floor, Paul silent in the background, Cloud's strong arms coming around her waist to pull her close, Cloud's hands slipping under her shirt to feel her bare back, Cloud's eyes so beautifully clear as he searched hers for any trace of forgiveness, Cloud's breath blowing hot and sweet against her lips as he muttered apologies, and she closed her eyes waiting for his kiss.

And then he was gone. She grasped at air, her lips still tingling with anticipation. The air was stale where once his musky, clean shirt smell filled her nose and her hands clutched fistfuls of his sweater. Her tongue watered from the memory of tasting him. The heat that gathered in her stomach ached to relive that memory.

"It's only fair that you lost him because I lost Reina. Except he killed himself. It seems that because you can't hold onto your own man, you steal others'…" Paul was merciless as a demon.

"That's not true," Tifa shook her head slowly, willing down the sobs. That was the most convincing illusion of Cloud thus far.

"Do you know whom this circle is for?" his smirk was mocking. "Gluttons. And you, my dear, are our provider, our Queen and this bar our haven, your kingdom."

"You were the one that killed her," Tifa's voice shook from the wrenching guilt in her chest. Even she didn't believe her own feeble defense. "I didn't do anything."

"With all that you've done, you might as well have handed me the knife!" He lunged at her, his clothes melting from a hideously large body, fat rolling in thick waves as he moved. She ducked out of the way but nearly stumbled, grabbing her head as a sharp pain lanced through her adrenaline rush. The effects of the hangover were tightening their grip, slowing her legs and loosening her fists. But Paul was relentless in his attacks, not sparing her any time to recover from the spells of nausea that left her slightly dazed and befuddled.

And each time she blinked, Paul became more and more demonic. Bubbles billowed underneath the fat, bursting on the surface as vile mucus. His face swelled from a strong chin and kind hazel eyes to a large ball of lard with little beady eyes sunken into his head. His large feet pounded as he rushed after her, his skin crying clumps of indiscernible slime. And the _smell_. 

It was overwhelming, the essence being a mix of rotten meat and putrid bodily excretions rolling off him with every move he made. Tifa felt herself growing faint because she had to hold her breath every time he drew too close. When trying to execute a clumsy punch, he managed to stop her by grabbing her arm. With a powerful shove, she was sent flying into a shelf of hundreds of bottles of alcohol.

The glass cascaded in countless waves, bursting like raindrops on the floor, each bottle propelling hundreds of trenchant shards in all directions, gushing upsurges of colorful liquid. It sounded like the ceiling and sky alike were coming down, the noise ringing in Tifa's ear long after the last bottle shattered, spewing its precious innards into the sea of liquor.

The heavy stench of alcohol was tremendously sweet, making her teeth ache. She was bleeding out from hundreds of orifices, red flowing into the murky brown. Half-crazed with pain, her faltering consciousness thought of her daughter. _Mom, this spoon has holes in it! That's because it's a strainer, Marlene. See? It can't hold any liquid._

"You took everything from me," the monstrous body sweated vomit as it waded across the flooded room towards her bloody form. "My family, my dignity, even my life. I rotted away in a dirty prison cell because of you!"

His meaty hand closed around her neck, forcing her underneath the water, the shards of glass being pushed even deeper into her skin. She opened her mouth to cough out blood but only swallowed mouthfuls of the foul water. Darkness was creeping in from the edge of her vision. "Don't struggle, Lockhart," his voice was faint against the muffled sloshing of liquid as she struggled fruitlessly. "You belong here, in Seventh Heaven. Drown with the rest of us."

Her lungs gave way and the darkness swallowed her.

"_You smell like beer," he said as they lay in the afterglow, naked and tangled up in each other's limbs. "Mm," Tifa hummed from the safe haven that was his neck. "Tifa, have you been drinking again?" he was so insistent and she was so tired, so she didn't answer him, hoping he would give up and go to sleep._

"_Tifa." He moved away from her, looking at her sternly even as she pouted. "I saw the bottles. You can't drink so much, it's not healthy."_

"_It's just every now and then," she said and he still wasn't convinced. "But you're drinking too frequently. I'm worried that this will do damage to your body."_

"_Strife, I run a bar. I can hold my liquor." She was saying too many words and the lingering headache from the morning pressed on her still tender head._

"_And I'm not saying you can't. But every time we fight, you drink yourself into a stupor."_

_He wasn't used to getting such a cold glare from his wife. "Then maybe you shouldn't pick fights with me so much if you're worried about the repercussions."She turned away as if to leave and he moved quickly, pressing against her back, holding her tenderly in his arms._

"_I'm sorry," he breathed into her hair. "It's just that, money is getting tight and my regulars aren't giving me enough assignments. I'm sorry for taking my frustrations out on you and I hate making you angry. I love you too much."_

_She couldn't say anything because she felt terrible for making her husband worry about her. She was fast becoming addicted to the intoxicating liquid that she had always prided herself on selling yet not drinking a drop. It started like a bad habit. They fought like any other couple but every time they did, Cloud would ride Fenrir, escaping for a bit when he was starting to lose control. But what did she have that could comfort her when he needed his time to recover? However, the consequences of her seeking relief were disastrous. She would become short tempered because of her hangovers and would blow up on him, causing him to go out and then she would drink some more, propelling the whole terrible cycle along. Sometimes she was the one who started the fights just to have an excuse to indulge in the alcohol without remorse. _

_She stayed wide awake long after his breathing steadied against her shoulder, her mouth dry in her yearning. He could no longer satisfy all her cravings. _


End file.
